


struck

by manzana



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, celebrity au!!, there's also a bit of an age gap between the two but everything is completely innocent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:59:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3259100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manzana/pseuds/manzana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sousuke was not the type to fawn over a famous person, he wasn't, he swears to every god, and don't you dare listen to a word kisumi has to say about it. </p><p>(anyway, matsuoka rin isn't just any old famous person, so he hardly counts)</p><p> </p><p>written for day 5 of sourinweek [celebrity au]</p>
            </blockquote>





	struck

**Author's Note:**

> my contribution to [sourinweek](http://sourinweek.tumblr.com/) day 5: celebrity au
> 
> cross-posted from [my tumblr](http://princessbubblgum.tumblr.com/post/109611408019/struck)
> 
>  
> 
> sousuke is 15, rin is in his 20's

Sousuke awakens to the distant vibration of his phone under his pillow. Normally a single vibration wouldn't be enough to rouse him from sleep, but when it was followed by about ten others it was kind of hard to ignore.

 

He groans, shoving his hand beneath his pillow and removing the offending object. When he blindly stamps on the home button with his thumb, the screen illuminates to reveal about a dozen messages from the only human being who would bother to pester him relentlessly like this at this hour.

 

The first handful are similar.

 

_SOUSUKE_

_did you hear the news!!!_

_this is a big deal sousuke_

_soooooou_

_suuuuuu_

_keeeeeeeee_

_i need to know how youre coping my dear please get back to me!!!_

 

and it isn't until he's deleted them all and gets to the last one that he's greeted by something substantial.

 

It's a link to a webpage, and, against his better judgment, he taps on it.

 

The web browser on his phone stalls a bit as it loads the page, and he takes this time to swipe a hand down across his face, trying and struggling to stay conscious for this whole ordeal. When his hand passes his eyes, he sees on his phone now, in large bold font, the headline of an article.

 

_**Pro-Swimmer and Olympic Medalist Matsuoka Rin Marries Secret Girlfriend** _

 

Well. He was awake now.

 

 

 

 

Sousuke doesn't want to be at school today, and probably not ever for the foreseeable month, mostly and only because that is also where Kisumi can be found. He tries to avoid him as much as he possibly can, leaving earlier, alternating his route to class, not answering the slew of text messages that inquire of his whereabouts. It's impossible to completely evade him without outright leaving the country, however, but even more so because they are in the same class. Sousuke cannot run any farther when Kisumi comes running into their home room ten minutes before their lesson stars, but he does briefly consider jumping out of the nearest window.

 

"Ah, how's my broken-hearted boy?" Kisumi asks, wasting no time at all as he slides into the desk in front of Sousuke and spins around in his chair to face him. He rifles around in his pockets before pulling out a small pack of tissues and shoving them in Sousuke's face. "I brought these for you! Don't want you staining your uniform with your tears!"

 

He waves them just beyond Sousuke's nose, and Sousuke makes a small noise of irritation before smacking them away.

 

Never deterred, Kisumi simply places the tissues on Sousuke's desk and reaches out for Sousuke's hand, holding it between his own and patting the top consolingly.

 

"My poor little Sousuke. It's alright, don't be sad, there's plenty of fish in the sea -- !"

 

Sousuke immediately snatches his hand back and hides it in his lap where it can't be reached. He levels Kisumi with a steely glare.

 

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

 

Kisumi looks surprised, sitting up taller and pressing a hand against his lips.

 

"Oh? But didn't you get my texts this morning? I know you very _rudely_ didn't respond, but, either way, surely you would know, you are his number one fan after all -- " and then he pauses, relaxes, _titters_ to himself. "Ah, you're in denial. That's alright, Sousuke. Completely normal reaction to having your heart torn asunder."

 

"If this is about Matsuoka Rin," Sousuke begins, pursing his lips as the words weasel their way out of him. "I want you to know that I literally couldn't care less about his personal life whatsoever."

 

"That is the biggest lie I have ever heard from you," Kisumi responds, grinning. "You know his height, his weight, his birthday, how many siblings he has -- "

 

"You could find all of that on his Wikipdia page, alright, it's not that phenomenal."

 

"You know what _high school_ he went to."

 

"Again, common information -- "

 

" -- and then you made me take a train ride with you to go visit it -- !"

 

"I didn't _make_ you do anything, you were the one who planned the trip and added that side-trip in to get me to go with you."

 

"Ah," Kisumi says with a smile, holding up a finger. "But you did go, yes?"

 

Sousuke says nothing, glancing away out the window.

 

"Sousuk _eee_ ," Kisumi presses, leaning forward to stare up at him with his chin in his hands. "It's okay to be upset! Your celebrity crush is off the market! I'd be in mourning too!"

 

"It's not a _cr_ \-- " Sousuke starts, rounding on him again with fire in his eyes before taking a deep breath and calming down. It was useless to blow up at Kisumi or argue about semantics; he'd just use that as ammunition to further torment him. So he closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, counts to three, and then continues, "I'm not some kind of mindless rabid fanatic, _Kisumi_ , I admire him as a swimmer and that's it. I don't care if he's married or whatever -- "

 

"Nonono, okay," Kisumi says, rushing to interrupt him. He suddenly turns around in his seat to dig through his bag and then turns back, slapping a piece of paper on the table. "Remember this?"

 

Sousuke glances down. There's a lot of lines and scribbles and circles and words on the page and he doesn't really remember what this was about until he tilts his head, and sees Matsuoka Rin's name circled at the top. It was a game of MASH Kisumi had created for Sousuke maybe _three months ago_.

 

"You kept this," Sousuke says, staring up at Kisumi with a raised eyebrow. "And you carry it around with you?"

 

"I don't just _carry it around_ , I'm not insane, like you!"

 

"What -- "

 

"No, I brought it because I thought we could reminisce about your infatuation with this guy before you lose faith in true love or something."

 

"Oh my god."

 

"But, listen, here's the point -- " He stabs his finger down at the page, right over Matsuoka Rin's name. "He's the only guy you said you'd ever consider marrying."

 

"Holy shit, do you, like, never properly remember anything that has transpired between us or does it all just get jumbled around in that pink-haired head of yours?" Sousuke mumbles, putting his face in his hand. "I didn't say that _at all_ , you just put his name down and couldn't think of anyone else."

 

"NO, I remember it exactly!" And now Kisumi was getting way too visibly invested in this argument. "I said 'who do you want to marry Sousuke? Besides Matsuoka Rin', you didn't say anything, so I had to fill out the rest of the names with anime characters and pop idols."

 

"Okay?"

 

"Okay, so you didn't say anything! You also didn't _deny_ it either. In your world, that's as much of a flashing neon sign declaring the word YES in giant letters as any."

 

Sousuke sighs -- it was like arguing with a child -- and turns to stare out the window again. "Leave me alone, Kisumi."

 

"Okay, I will, I promise, because I know you're in pain -- "

 

He shuts his eyes; maybe he could nap through this mental torture...

 

" -- but, like, seriously, just so I can be sure you're not suffering emotionally, how are you feeling? Really? No judgment from me."

 

"Yeah?" Sousuke snorts. "That's surprising." A pause. "I'm fine. I don't care."

 

Kisumi stares at him carefully, scrutinizingly, his face contorted into a frown.

 

"You sure?"

 

_No_

 

The thought is passing, fleeting, and Sousuke doesn't entertain it too long, waves it away like a nuisance.

 

"Yes," is what he says instead. "I promise you. I will not be crying into my jammers later this evening, you can rest easy."

 

Kisumi stares at him a bit longer before mumbling a soft, "alright," that doesn't sound particularly convincing. Class begins a short while later and Sousuke is finally granted peace. But the conversation had done its damage enough and he finds himself unable to concentrate for most of the lesson, instead doodling in the margins of his notes and staring out the window.

 

He feels weird. Not sad or angry or anything. Just…odd. Off. He can't pinpoint the emotion (or won't, more likely) and he passes it off as being tired from his rude awakening earlier that morning. He ends up dozing off in class in an effort to stave off the feeling, and when he wakes up again some time after their lesson, Kisumi appears to have moved on from that topic, going on to talk about a girl he was interested in, thinking about what to buy from the canteen for lunch, asking Sousuke about his plans for the weekend and if he wanted to come over and watch a movie. Sousuke doesn't really acknowledge his words, which isn't too out of the ordinary, but out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the way Kisumi is watching him, carefully, concernedly, although he doesn't make any further mention of it.

 

It isn't until much later in the day that the topic even comes up again, but it's from an unlikely source. He's with his dad at his store, an after school job that he felt he didn't get paid nearly enough for to be worth the effort, when his father, dear sweet father, hovering around him while he sweeps out front, suddenly says, "hey, I heard your boyfriend just got married."

 

Sousuke nearly drops the broom before spinning around wildly and staring at his old man with wide eyes.

 

"… _excuse me_?"

 

"Yeah, that famous olympian with the weird teeth? You're always glued to the TV whenever his races are broadcast, the one you have posters of all over your room -- "

 

"I have _one_ poster," Sousuke mutters through gritted teeth. "Anyway, his name is Matsuoka Rin. Don't call him my boyfriend. I just admire his swimming. That's all it is."

 

"Ah," his father says, watching him with his hands laced behind his back. "But you knew who I was talking about, didn't you? When I referred to him like that?" 

 

"No, it's because -- !" he begins, but it's just as fruitless to argue with his father as it is with Kisumi. God forbid the two ever get together to start talking about this. Sousuke chooses to keep quiet, knowing no matter what he says or doesn't say, it's going to condemn him. His ears burn though, and he can practically feel the look his father is giving him, his eyes likely twinkling beneath his bushy brows, his lips likely curling under his even bushier mustache.

 

"Anyway," his father continues, and Sousuke can hear the amusement in his tone. "Heard he's married now."

 

"Yeah," Sousuke mumbles, turning back to his task. "Apparently so."

 

"To whom, do you know?"

 

"No," is what he says, because he's embarrassed enough as it is that his father is even aware of his admiration for this celebrity, doesn't want him to know how thoroughly he'd combed the internet for as much information as possible after finding out the news himself. He knows exactly who Matsuoka Rin had married: a highly intelligent and successful sports medicine physician with her own practice in Tokyo. They had the ceremony in their home and they'd been secretly dating for about two years. It was all very sudden to learn, especially when he had, as Kisumi so lovingly called it, something of an "encyclopedic knowledge" of Matsuoka Rin as a public figure.

 

His father did not need to know this, though.

 

"Well," he father goes on, still smiling in his voice. "That's a shame. I'd see him on ads sometimes with your mother, call him our son-in-law -- "

 

" _Dad_ ," Sousuke snaps, his grip tightening on the broom.

 

To this his father laughs, and Sousuke is relieved to hear his retreating footsteps as he shuffles his way back into his store. He's grateful that this is the least of his troubles from that man today, for he was more than familiar with the extent of his merciless teasing, but then he gets his last word in, "might wanna sweep more than one spot there, loverboy," and Sousuke fights the urge to lob the broom right at him.

 

He feels weird again, the same kind of weird he felt in his classroom today, and he thinks he might be coming down with something. He finishes up his sweeping -- bitterly so, purposely leaving a tiny clump of dust by he front door just to spite his dad -- then asks to go home early. His father shrugs at this, tells him he's more than welcome to a day of grieving if he really needs one, and Sousuke slams his way out of the shop without a response.

 

Upon returning home and after making himself some tea, he retreats back to his bedroom and resolves to nap away the feeling. As he nears the bed, his foot gets caught on something on the floor, enough to nearly trip him, and when he glances down to look for the offending object, he sees his stack of sports magazines.

 

The very top issue has Matsuoka Rin on the front cover, posing with his vast collection of gold medals all strung around his neck. It really wouldn't matter which of the issues was on the top, to be honest, for most of them in the stack also featured him on their covers. It was in fact half the reason he'd held onto them in the first place instead of recycling them like he had with most of his other issues.

 

He averts his eyes quickly, suddenly very aware of himself, and discreetly kicks all the magazines under his bed hard enough that if he were to retrieve them later, he'd have to crawl on all fours and wiggle under his bed to reach them.

 

Peeling out of his day clothes until he's only in his boxers and a loose undershirt, he throws himself on top of his bed, pressing his arm across his eyes and sighing deeply. He removes his arm after a moment, glancing to the side, where his gaze automatically falls on the wall near his bed.

 

The poster in question, the one his father had multiplied into several more than he actually owned, was staring down at him. It was a gift from Kisumi, something he'd found online somewhere and insisted Sousuke hang up on his wall immediately. Black and white and taken from an angle, it depicted the swimmer in the middle of a race, his arms high behind him as he performed the butterfly stroke with grace and ease that a snapshot like this couldn't do justice to. There's some cheesy inspirational quote about greatness or success or something in English at the bottom, along with the olympic logo in the corner.

 

There's other things on his walls too. His own awards and medals, other more generic swim-related posters, newspaper clippings and magazine articles about workout routines and diets, fliers advertising swim meets he'd participated in, things like that. This just happened to always draw his attention.

 

Today the sight made him groan, roll onto his other side so that his back was to it, and he could deny the feeling no longer.

 

It was the silliest thing he'd ever felt in his entire life, the most illogical, ridiculous, horrid thing he would never admit to --

 

It was impossible, the man didn't know he existed, he was much older than him and likely too intelligent and talented and successful to want anything to do with him in whatever bizarre alternate universe where they might actually have a chance of knowing one another.

 

But that hadn't stopped Sousuke's mind from wandering before, innocently of course, but silly all the same, imagining himself advancing fast in his swimming, of competing nationally and then globally, of catching the attention of the famous swimmer, of _competing_ with him, maybe even alongside him. He imagines bright lights and cheering crowds and the feel of the pool water as he completes a particularly arduous race, and Matsuoka Rin is there, grinning at him, offering him a hand, praising him.

 

He'd entertained thoughts of impressing him, of charming him right back, of… _wooing_ him and oh god, he doesn't even like to give words to how much farther those ideas kept going because he would have to be blind or delusional if he ever honestly believed Matsuoka Rin wasn't attractive or that he, Sousuke, at least, wasn't attracted to him.

 

Did he think any of it was possible, even fathomably possible, in this lifetime or any? No. Of course not. But he'd dwelled on the ideas far too long, far too often, to make them embarrassingly palpable so that when something like… _Matsuoka Rin Marries Secret Girlfriend_ suddenly presents itself to him in _reality_ , where his silly little fantasies cannot lay claim, it's undeniably jarring.

 

And, as much as he'd been denying to himself all day, it's also a little heartbreaking.

 

When he wakes up from his nap an hour later, he takes the poster down, shoves it under his bed with the rest of his magazines, then crawls back into bed to sleep off the rest of the day until dinnertime.

 

 

 

 

A month or so later finds Sousuke in his dad's shop again, this time in the back washing dishes. Because the shop was a bakery and his dad was the baker (while Sousuke definitely was not), he could typically be found in the front dealing with customers while his father was in the back actually working with the breads and pastries. Their roles were often reversed when the inevitability of dish washing crept up on his father. Sousuke thought this was a little unfair, but there was little he could do to question authority here and so he did what he was told, grumbling as he stomped through the single curtain separating the front of the shop from the kitchen in the back.

 

There were a lot of dishes and he'd already been here for a long while, long enough to feel deathly bored and for his mind to wander. It was enough that sounds like the ringing of the shop bell in the front and the pleasant conversation between his boisterous father and various customers faded into white noise behind him. He only managed to be wrenched from his reverie once in awhile when he was called to the front to box a particularly large order of desserts or to bring a cake order from the back fridge to the front for a customer there to pick it up.

 

It was maddeningly mindless, everything really. It was the sort of lifestyle his father had been hoping to make for himself all his life: easy and calm and peaceful. Sousuke had higher ambitions, something faster-paced, filled with adrenaline, and he hoped to escape this as soon as he possibly could.

 

He's down to the last few pans in the sink when he faintly registers the sound of the front bell ringing again. He ignores it, like he'd ignored every other, as well as the following sounds of voices that filtered in after it.

 

A few minutes pass, however, and he suddenly hears his father call his name, loud and urgently, much more so than he'd ever done before. Sousuke thinks it might an emergency maybe, either that or it was some neighbor of theirs that he was insisting on Sousuke greeting politely. Either way, Sousuke took his time wiping his hands on his waist apron before trudging his way back to the front.

 

"What is it now," he murmurs, pushing the curtain aside and focusing his weary gaze on his father.

 

He sees his dad on his little stool by the register, grinning cheekily from ear to ear, and gesturing wildly with little not-so-discreet nods from his head. Sousuke frowns, follows the direction of his nodding, and --

 

_no_

 

Bright red hair…lean figure…muscled forearms… he's wearing shades over his eyes so it's hard to tell, hard to confirm, and Sousuke thinks for a desperately hopeful second that he might be able to escape this nightmare unscathed, that this _couldn't be_ \-- And then he catches Sousuke's glance in his direction, grins, and _there they are_. That iconic row of sharp white teeth and oh god they looked even sharper and more intimidating in person.

 

Sousuke, his eyes wide, immediately retreats backwards through the curtain into the back room.

 

"Sousuke!" his father scolds, sounding amused despite the attempt at harshness in his tone, and then he hears _him_ , laughing too, saying, "it's alright. He looked a little startled."

 

What deity did he piss off to make this happen, Sousuke wonders to himself, leaning over clutching his knees and staring at the ground. How in the world did the planets align in this way to cause this chain of events? How could this possibly _be_?

 

It wasn't completely unlikely that a famous athlete might show up in his hometown, he'd reflect later. He was human after all, a resident of Japan, and as far as the tier of famous people go, he wasn't exactly a movie star.

 

But why him of all people, why in this bakery of all bakeries, in this port town of _all_ the port towns in Japan?

 

It's not even so much that Sousuke doesn't want to be in the same room as his hero. He'd certainly thought about it enough times that it'd always been a dream of his. It was more so the unexpectedness of it. In an ideal situation, a meeting between them would be in some controlled, pre-planned, anticipated situation, like at an organized event or something. Somewhere Sousuke could prepare himself mentally and emotionally beforehand, not be caught off guard and starstruck, like… like he was literally seconds ago.

 

Sousuke was not exactly adept at social interaction, let alone around the most amazing human being in the world.

 

This was going to be awful.

 

He hears his father call out for him again, more sharply this time, and, while he loves his father and knows he means well, Sousuke momentarily contemplates patricide in as quick and painless a manner as possible. He relents eventually that it was his own fault for not briefing his father on what to do in a scenario like this, that he should have come to the back and warned Sousuke, given him a moment to compose and prepare himself, before beckoning him out.

 

And anyway, murder was kind of out of the question, not when there was a witness present.

 

Knowing the two -- _him_ among them, he still cannot wrap his head around this -- are waiting out there for him, Sousuke gives up, left with no other choice but to take a deep breath, give himself a little pep talk under his breath that, "I can do this. You can do this, Sousuke, it's _fine_ ," and stroll back out, trying to look as nonchalant about it as possible.

 

Then his eyes land on him again and his stomach flip-flops and his skin feels warm all over.

 

"S-sorry," he stammers, averting his eyes to the floor. "I'm. Uh. Hello."

 

"Come _here_ ," his father hisses, grabbing him by the sleeve and yanking forward until he's standing right beside him at the register. Sousuke still avoids eye contact, keeping his vision low, until he hears it, that voice again,

 

"hey, there. Sousuke, yeah?"

 

sounding so sweet and light and amused and h _e said his name, Sousuke could drop dead right now and be completely okay with that_ , and then he can't help but glance up, not when he was being addressed.

 

He's removed his sunglasses, letting them sit on his forehead, and wow his eyes were red, it was like staring into fire, and Sousuke actually gulps, hoping he doesn't notice, that he was giving off an air of composure that he actually couldn't feel at all himself.

 

"Matsuoka Rin," he goes on to say, holding out a hand. It takes a seconds on Sousuke's part to realize that he wants to shake hands and then another second to come to terms the fact that he was about to make physical contact with Matsuoka Rin. He has to walk himself through the entire process, has to tell himself to pick up his hand, to insert it there into Rin's, to shake along with him, although Rin's grip is much stronger than his and his handshake firmer than Sousuke could have ever expected.

 

"I know," Sousuke blurts quickly, feeling stupid for saying it immediately, even more so when his father explains right after, "he's a big fan of yours."

 

" _Dad_ ," Sousuke growls under his breath, shooting his grinning father a betrayed glare, but beside them, Rin only laughs, and it's probably the most glorious sound Sousuke had ever heard, enough to distract him from how steamed he was right now.

 

"Are you?" Rin asks, smiling warmly. "Do you swim?"

 

Sousuke nods numbly. He thinks he should probably say something after this, that was probably a normal way to interact with another human being in conversation maybe, but fortunately for him, his father had taken it upon himself to play wingman here. Unfortunately for him, this was also his _father_ , and the first thing he thinks to say after this is, "don't mind, Sousuke. He's a little shy."

 

"Oh my god," Sousuke mumbles under his breath, which he didn't think he'd said too loud, until he hears Rin laugh loudly again. He feels a blush bloom across his cheeks, down his neck, and prays desperately that it goes away before it's too noticeable.

 

"Don't worry about it, it's fine," Rin says reassuringly. "What stroke do you swim, Sousuke? What's your favorite?"

 

Sousuke actually has to struggle to remember the answer to this. "B-butterfly…"

 

"Wow, same! It's my favorite. I've been swimming it since before I was your age, y'know."

 

 _Yes, I know,_ Sousuke thinks and thankfully keeps to himself.

 

"Are you pretty serious about your swimming?" Rin goes on and when Sousuke peeks a glance at him, he's overwhelmed to see that Rin looks genuinely interested in what they're talking about. "Gonna do anything with that when you're done with high school?"

 

"Wanna…" Sousuke begins, stumbling over his words. "Wanna go pro."

 

"Ah," Rin says, a grin twisting onto his lips, flashing Sousuke with those shark teeth again. "I have some competition then, huh? My own personal rival. I like the sound of that."

 

 _Rival._ The word echoes in Sousuke's his mind and he feels his head reeling. _Rivals with Matsuoka Rin._

 

"We should race, yeah? Maybe next time I'm in town. I'll come find you two again."

 

If the last thing Rin had said had blown Sousuke away, this had nearly caused him to fall over. He reaches out a hand shakily, gripping the countertop before him as if he might actually do that.

 

"Really?" he says, his voice coming out in a horrendously hopeful squeak, and he quickly clears his throat, mutters again, much lower and more casually, "um, really?"

 

"Yeah, you wanna go pro, don't you? Gotta race against the best, right?" Rin says through his grin, jabbing a thumb against his chest. "I wanna see you in the next lane from me in a few years, so you better work hard." And then he winks, fucking _winks_. "I'll be waiting for you."

 

Sousuke wants to say something, something witty or charming or interesting, but his tongue is stuck in his mouth and he's fairly certain that if he makes an attempt, it's just going to come out like a weird noise. So, not trusting himself, he simply nods again, slowly and shakily, and there's a brief moment of silence where they're just staring at each other before he feels his father hit him on the arm.

 

"Give Mr. Matsuoka his bread," he says, smirking at his boy. "He wants two. Go on."

 

It was like being in the clouds and rudely dropped back onto earth, this sudden interaction with his father, and Sousuke has to make sense out of his words by remembering where he is and what he was doing here in the first place. He gets his legs moving eventually, shuffles over to the case of breads and, knowing Rin's eyes are still on him, awkwardly stuff two of them into a bag.

 

"I don't even like sweets," Rin goes on to say conversationally to Sousuke's father, "but my team and I were passing through here, and I heard this was the highest rated bakery in town so. I mean. When in Rome, right?"

 

Ah, so he was here with his team. Sousuke might have known that if he was still keeping up with any news about him, but he'd kind of held back on following his public life too closely back when his marriage had gotten announced.

 

There was that mystery solved, anyway.

 

He turns, now holding the bread loaves, and tries to hand them to Rin over the counter, before his father grabs him by the back of his shirt and pushes him toward the swinging door separating the two sides of the counter. Sousuke looks at him like he's crazy, but his father urges him on with those bushy eyebrows of his. Sousuke tries to shake his head, but the eyebrows just wiggle more urgently, and so he sighs, pushing through the door and stepping around so that he was standing right before Rin.

 

Rin was taller than him, he saw, but not by much so. He was confident that in a few years he could surpass him in height, that if they were the same age he'd likely be taller than him. The thought causes a delightful feeling to course through him, but he ignores it, holding out the bread loaves and glancing away.

 

"Thanks," Rin says, accepting them.

 

He'd just handed bread to _Matsuoka Rin_. God, Kisumi was gonna flip his shit when he found out about this.

 

A sudden thought occurs to him just then, and he opens his mouth, the words tumbling out like a disaster, and he regrets this decision immediately.

 

"I…ah… uh… can… would you -- "

 

"Hm?" Rin says, tilting his head at him. "Did you -- " A pause, and then his eyes light up in realization. "Oh, like. An autograph? Yeah?"

 

Oh, good, he could read his mind, Sousuke thinks as he nods quickly. That was convenient, saved him the trouble of making a bigger fool of himself.

 

Rin rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "Not really a big fan of autographs. Seems kind of…weirdly distant." He's struck by an idea and snaps his fingers. "A picture? Let's take a picture together. Where's your phone?"

 

Sousuke quickly scrambles to dig his phone out of his pocket, forgetting which one it was even in, and after going through every single one on his person twice, he remembers it in his apron pocket and pulls it out. His motor functions have apparently malfunctioned at some point because he struggles to do something as simple as turn on his camera, and when his fumbling becomes loudly evident after a moment, Rin, laughing, reaches out and gently pries the phone from his hands.

 

"I got it, don't hurt yourself." He fiddles with the phone for a moment, then turns it around in his hand, the screen facing the two of them. "Alright, smile!" He wraps his arm around Sousuke's shoulder, flashing a peace sign with his hand.

 

Sousuke stares up at his image on his phone's screen, and he can't believe that he's looking at himself. That is _him_ and that is _Matsuoka Rin_ holding him close and grinning by his ear. Clearly this is a dream, he was going to wake up any moment and scream into his pillow. This could not be really happening.

 

"Sousuke," Rin chides teasingly. "You need to smile!"

 

And so he does, or he tries, an awkward unsure crooked little grin wiggling onto his face. Rin snaps two photos, then removes himself from Sousuke's space to look at the photo on the phone. He nods approvingly, returning the phone to Sousuke.

 

"Looks good. Real cute." He glances down at his watch then, his eyebrows shooting up behind his bangs. "Ah, gotta run." He holds up a hand. "Nice meeting you two! Thanks for the bread."

 

Taking a few steps backward, he suddenly holds out a fist to Sousuke and smiles. Sousuke stares at it a second before understanding what he wants, and then he tentatively raises a fist of his own, bumping their knuckles gently but not pulling back right away.

 

"We've got a date, remember," Rin says, grinning widely. "Next time I'm in town. We'll find each other again."

 

Sousuke nods, feeling as if in a daze, and reluctantly retracts his hand when Rin pulls his back to himself. He waves at them both, tugging his sunglasses back over his eyes, and he's crossed the floor to the front door, his hand on the handle, when Sousuke's father calls out to him.

 

"Hey, congrats on the marriage!"

 

Rin freezes, his back to them, and then he turns, shrugging and rolling his eyes. 

 

"Ah, that. Elaborate tabloid rumor. My PR team is trying to clean it up. Should blow over soon. You know how it is." He makes eye contact with Sousuke again, grins gently, then holds up a hand again. "Later!"

 

The minute he's out of sight, Sousuke spins around and collapses on his arms atop the counter.

 

"Son-in-law is back on the market!" his dad crows, slapping him on the back.

 

"I hate you," Sousuke mumbles into his arms. "I hate you so goddamn much."

 

"If I was a cruel father, I wouldn't have even called you out here at all."

 

"I _hate_ you."

 

 

 

 

Sousuke puts off showing Kisumi the photo as long as humanly possible, because he knows what kind of reaction that's going to elicit. He ends up springing it on him one day, when Kisumi slides into his seat in front of him in class again, and begins his morning greeting by declaring, "heard your boy is available again! No marriage!"

 

"Yeah, I know."

 

"Of _course_ you know. What don't you know about Matsuoka Rin?" Kisumi says, shaking his head. "When did you hear about it?"

 

"Two weeks ago."

 

"Oh? I just heard about it yesterday." Kisumi leans forward in his seat, staring up at him. "How'd you find out?"

 

To this, Sousuke tugs out his phone, taps around a bit, then holds it out for Kisumi to see.

 

Kisumi, upon realizing what he's looking at, screams so loud everyone in the room looks at him and their teacher sharply scolds him to not act like a wild animal indoors.

 

"I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS."

 

"Can you keep your voice down for once in your godforsaken life…"

 

"I CAN'T -- HOW IS THIS NOT YOUR PHONE BACKGROUND?"

 

"Kisumi, seriously…"

 

"OH MY GOD. CAN I HAVE A COPY OF THIS? TWO COPIES?"

 

Class starts a few minutes later, with Kisumi spinning around in his seat after ordering Sousuke to tell him _everything_ as soon as they had a break. For the duration of class, the boy in front of him fidgets, obviously too excited to pay attention, and Sousuke averts his eyes, gazing out the window again. He thinks back on that day again, feels a warmth spread across his skin that has nothing to do with the sun streaming through the window at him, before glancing down at his phone in his lap. It's still displaying the photo and the sight of it makes him smile involuntarily, so wide he has to hide it behind his hand.

 

His teacher asks him what's so funny a moment later and he shakes his head, puts his phone away, and starts taking notes from the lesson.


End file.
